


A Mad Vee Party

by Emma_Wolf



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Drug Use, Dubious Consent, F/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 07:44:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/950517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emma_Wolf/pseuds/Emma_Wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Storybrooke pre-Emma. Jefferson and Dr. Whale, being two of the few lucky enough to retain their pre-curse memories, are bored in the small town. After 28 years of the same, they are looking for something new. Enter the patient in the psych ward. No one knows who she is, and she'll forget everything tomorrow anyway.<br/>WARNING: dub-con due to drug use.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mad Vee Party

Victor Whale looked at his watch and frowned. Jefferson was late again. “Typical,” he muttered. He finished the rest of his beer with one long gulp and wandered over to a pool table.

“Can I get the winner?” Victor asked the two men then playing.

The larger of the two looked Victor up and down with distain. Though tall, Victor knew he had an unimposing build. “You, doctor?” He spat out the word “doctor” like it was something to be ashamed of. His friend gave a drunken chortle.

“Pool’s not exactly a sport requiring great physical strength, is it?”

“Alright. One hundred dollars a game,” the larger one said, clearly expecting his bid to faze the doctor.

“Done.” Victor placed the money on the table without hesitation and waited for his game to begin.

In 28 years, one can get pretty good at pool. If one applies oneself. Victor did. After he woke up in this godforsaken town—after threatening to tear out Regina’s throat if she didn’t put him back—he realized he should make the most of it. And he put becoming kick ass at pool on his list of things to do before the curse is broken and it’s all whisked it all away. After a while, he even got used to all the colors.

In less than three turns, Victor sunk the eight ball and collected his money. The two other players skulked off glowering at him.

By then, Jefferson had also arrived. “Don’t you ever get tired of hustling?”

Victor stared at him. “No. But I get tired of waiting for you.”

Jefferson nodded to one of the men. “That one looks dangerous.”

“Please. The Sheriff of Nottingham is a pushover.”

“Is he the one we beat with the cue in 09?” Jefferson asked with a smile, enjoying the reminiscence.

“No. It was 19 A.C., I think. Because Henry was here already. I remember Regina was pretty pissed because the Sheriff woke up with a broken face and no memory of it happening. And Regina had to deal with us as well as her kid.” The two of them sat at the bar and ordered more drinks.

Jefferson pulled out his lucky lighter: a Zippo with a pink and purple striped cat with a stupid grin on his face. Jefferson thought it was kitschy, but Victor thought it was pretentiously meta. “Fuck. I don’t even know what year it is now. How are we supposed to keep track of time when nothing ever changes?”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed you have some trouble keeping track of time. Why don’t you get a watch or a calendar or something? Didn’t you have a pocket watch in that story? It was right twice a day, if I recall correctly.”

“You’re thinking of the clock tower.” He took a long drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke in Victor’s face. “I used to try to make one hat a month, but that got boring. And the town nearly ran out of felt. What year is it anyway?”

“Twenty eight years after curse.”

“Fuck,” Jefferson said again. “We need to try something fun. The Rabbit Hole is turning into Snoresville.”

“You’re just saying that because you still can’t beat me at pool.”

“No, I’m just saying that because I’m looking for something that’s new in a place antithetical to ‘new.’”

“You can always try making bowlers. Or trilbies. Or sou’westers. Or anything other than that wretched oversized top hat you keep making. That hat was never in style. For a half guinea or otherwise.”

“Ha ha ha.” Jefferson extinguished his cigarette in Victor’s beer. “What if I just stood up here and said ‘attention everyone!’” As he spoke, he stood up on the bar and waved his arms. “I said ‘attention!’”

Around the bar, eyes fell on him.

“Mayor Mills…” Jefferson began.

Alarmed, Victor stood up and pulled on Jefferson’s arm. “Jefferson! Get down here now!” He turned to the other patrons who all looked at them expectantly. “My friend. Maybe he had a bit too much.”

Jefferson only laughed. “Never! More please! Another round for my friend and me!” He sounded as mad as his reputation would have one believe. “No one will believe me if I tell them,” he said quieter so only his friend would hear.

Victor nodded in agreement. “No. As far as I know, we’re the only two who know.”

“Why us?”

Victor shrugged. “Because we weren’t from the Enchanted Forest.”

“So?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t make the curse!” Victor sounded exasperated. “But I’m not worried about them. I’m worried about _her_.” The next round of drinks had arrived. The nice thing about the Rabbit Hole was that the bartender never cut you off.

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “Regina? Please. What else can she do to us? She doesn’t have any magic here. How can she make our punishment any worse?”

“I can think of a way.”

Jefferson’s face grew pale as his thoughts turned to his daughter Grace. Or was it Paige? Sometimes he couldn’t remember what was real and what was the fantasy. “How?”

“I wasn’t even thinking about her. I was thinking about her.”

“Ok, you’ve got to stop with your overuse of the feminine pronoun and tell me what the fuck you mean.”

Victor leaned into his friend and dropped his voice. “Do you remember the Dark One’s girlfriend?”

“You mean Rump…”

“Shhh! Don’t say his name. You know that’s where his power comes from.”

Jefferson eyed his friend as though he had been the one to go mad. “You know, we still have those stories here. All of them. Even yours. I’m sure someone in the past 28 years has said ‘Rumplestiltskin.’”

Even as he said it, Jefferson nervously glanced around the room as though expecting Mr. Gold to come waltzing in and asking in his falsetto “you called, dearie?”

When he had his friend’s attention again, Victor continued. “Do you remember his girlfriend?”

“You mean his maid?”

“Whatever.”

“I think I remember her. I haven’t seen her around. What happened to her?”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you. Regina locked her up.”

“In jail?” Jefferson asked. He ran through the past 28 years of memories. He had spent some time in Storybrooke’s sheriff’s station. In the early days, when he was still thought acting out might get Regina to see that he was more trouble than he was worth, he’d been arrested a few times. He didn’t remember seeing Rumplestiltskin’s maid or girlfriend there. Sometimes one of the dwarves, but that was about it. Storybrooke was safe. A good place to raise your kids. Even if the _raising_ part didn’t really happen.

“No. In my hospital. In the psych ward.”

“Psych ward,” Jefferson repeated, perhaps wondering why Regina didn’t decide to put him there.

Victor just nodded.

“Why does she think she’s there?”

“That’s the twisted part. She has no memories.”

“Regina didn’t…?”

“Nope. Regina gave her no curse-memories.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Yep. So that’s why I try to lie low. Because she _can_ get to us if she wants to. She doesn’t need magic to be an evil bitch.”

“No memories at all?” Jefferson asked in disbelief.

“None.”

Jefferson had seen evidence of some of the town folk remembering things sometimes. Sometimes he would see Grace studying for a test and then the next day taking the test. “What about from day to day?”

“None,” Victor repeated flatly. He gave a loud belch and tossed some money on the bar. “I’m out. Gotta be at work tomorrow at fuck me o’clock in the morning.”

“Why do you even bother?”

Victor shrugged. “Chicks dig a guy in a white coat.”

“I could wear a white coat.”

“You mean a straight jacket.”

“You’ve got to take me to her.”

“Who?”

“Rumple’s girlfriend. I’ve got to see this.”

“She’s not a circus show. She’s just some girl in a padded cell. What’s to see?”

“Come on! No one will ever know. And if they will, they’ll forget about it tomorrow.”

Those famous words have gotten Victor and Jefferson in a lot of trouble over the past 28 years. Not necessary trouble with the law, Sheriff Graham, or Regina. But tight spots that didn’t square with Victor’s idea of lying low.

Nonetheless, and maybe it was the alcohol, he didn’t see the harm in this. “Fine.” 

***

“Shhhh! One of the dwarves is on guard duty.”

Jefferson laughed, but at least tried to muffle it. “Sleepy, right? I think we’re safe.”

Victor, also more than a little drunk, laughed too. “Follow me.” With his ID badge, he unlocked the doors to the steps to the psych ward. He thought back to his first day with that damn badge and started giggling uncontrollably. He couldn’t grasp the technology. Everyone else had been given curse-memories of working the technology, understanding how swiping a badge would open the door, but Regina hadn’t seen fit to give him any such knowledge of the 20th century. He fumbled at the door handle for what seemed like a half hour before an orderly, another of the dwarves, helped him out. Practicing medicine in this world was also a challenge. Things were so different from in the Land Without Color. But thankfully, Victor was a quick study and had been considered cutting edge back home.

“What’s so funny?”

“I just thought of your dwarf name,” Victor said as he nearly tumbled down the stairs. “You can be Crazy. And I can be Sexy.”

“I think Drunky or Sleazy would suit you better.”

“Sleazy?” Victor said with a smile that lived up to the name. “I can live with that.”

They reached the floor of the psych ward.  Jefferson went to the nurses’ station and helped himself to some bottles of pills.

“I’d be careful with those,” Victor warned.

Jefferson shrugged nonchalantly. “This one makes you grow taller,” he said shaking a bottle then the other. “And this one makes you grow smaller.”

“And this one makes you chemically castrated.”

For a brief moment, they looked at each other with the utmost seriousness. Then they lost their composure and fell over themselves laughing.

“Stop, stop!” Jefferson pleaded. “Where is she?”

“Who?” Victor asked, barely in control of his laughter.

“The Dark One’s girlfriend.”

“Right.” Victor gave himself a small shake as he remembered why he was here. Victor extended his hand in front of him, pointing down the long hallway. “Follow the Yellow Brick Road.”

“No shit? She’s Dorothy?”

Victor lost it laughing again. “I don’t know who the fuck she is, but she’s that way.” He brought Jefferson to the door to Rumple’s girlfriend’s padded cell and opened it with his badge. “Hello gorgeous,” he said to the surprised and frightened woman. “I thought you might be lonely, so I brought you some company,” he said, barely composed.

Jefferson stepped out from behind him holding a bottle of wine. “Care to have a party?”

“A party?” she asked nervously, looking from one of them to the other.

“A vee party!” Jefferson said merrily. He shook one of the bottles he had lifted from the nurses’ station. “Can I interest you in a Vicodin?”

Something inside her—some buried part of her—seemed to respond to Jefferson’s suggestion, but another part of her was frightened. She drew herself into the corner of her room and looked at them with cowering eyes.

"We're not going to hurt you," Jefferson said with some exasperation. “Now be a good girl for Nurse Jefferson and take your medicine,” Jefferson said as he shook a pill out into a paper dosing cup. She took it hesitantly. Jefferson turned to Victor. “And you, Dr. Whale?”

Victor was certain that he had read somewhere that mixing Vicodin and alcohol was a bad idea. He was also certain that the terms of the queen’s curse meant that nothing could ever change. He would never age. John Doe upstairs would never wake up. This patient would never get back her memories. And nothing bad would come to the three of them if they drank and pilled themselves to a euphoric high one night.

Jefferson had already begun pouring the wine into the small dosing cups. “Shouldn’t you get something bigger?” The patient asked him.

“Oh I’ve got something bigger for you, my sweet.” Jefferson said in yet another fit of laughter. He handed her two shots of wine.

“I meant a bigger cup.”

But that was funny too to Jefferson, and he nearly fell on the floor laughing.

Jefferson’s laughter was contagious, and she started giggling too. She drank Jefferson’s wine shots one after another. He couldn’t pour them fast enough.

Soon enough, the wine and the pills got to her head too, and she was as intoxicated and euphoric as her companions, laughing over nothing and only knowing that she wanted more of the medicine "Nurse Jeferson" was handing out. She eyed the bottle hungrily.

Jefferson saw where her eyes were. "You want another?"

She blushed and nodded.

Jefferson smiled. He opened the bottle and shook a pill out onto his hand. He showed it to her like it was a great treat. "If you want it, come take it." He stuck the pill on his own tongue and held his tongue out for her.

She looked at them both uncertain with her eyebrows raised. Victor only shrugged and poured himself more wine. "If you want it..." he repeated.

With that encouragement, she moved toward Jefferson and placed her open mouth on top of his. Perhaps it was the alcohol or the Vicodin or some combination of the two, but she felt Jefferson's kiss all though her body not just on her mouth. The place between her legs seemed to throb and long for something she couldn't name.

“What’s your name, my sweet? What should I call you?” Jefferson asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Do you know anything about yourself?”

She shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

“Well, what do you want?”

“Out.”

“What will you do once you’re out?”

“I don’t know.”

The three of them laughed again, falling over themselves and landing on her bed and floor. Jefferson touched the sleeve of her hospital gown. Maybe they didn’t change in 28 years, but the curse didn’t stop things from wearing out. The gown was fraying and torn. “Can’t the hospital give its patients something nicer to wear?”

“What do you suggest? Lacy ball gowns?”

Jefferson and Victor laughed, but she perked up. “Lacey. That’s pretty. Can you call me that?”

“Lacey,” Jefferson purred. He leaned into her and planted a small kiss on her earlobe. “I can call you that,” he whispered. “What can my friend call you?”

The patient—Lacey now—opened her arms to both of them. “You both can call me Lacey.”

Victor didn’t need another invitation. He kneeled between her legs with his head by her stomach. He reached his up to her breasts and gave gentle squeezes as he kissed her belly through the ratty hospital gown. Encouraging him, Lacey wove her fingers through Victor’s hair.

Jefferson, from behind her, nibbled on her neck and massaged her shoulders. “So what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”

“I told you, I don’t know.”

“Do you remember how you got here?”

“No.”

Victor looked up from Lacey’s stomach. “Hey, Jefferson? You’re killing the mood.”

Jefferson glared at him. “I just want to check something.” He turned his attention back to Lacey. “Do you remember yesterday?”

“No.”

“So you probably won’t remember today either?”

“No.” Lacey sounded a little bit scared.

“Hardly complimentary, but I can work with that,” Jefferson said. He stood up and pushed Lacey down on her small bed. Victor pushed up her gown over her hips. He slid down the gray hospital-issued underwear. He couldn’t even think of them as panties. Jefferson finished removing her gown. She was much more beautiful without that crap.

Jefferson continued giving Lacey her medicine—shots of wine in dosing cups and more Vicodin. In between shots and pills, he gave her deep kisses and sucked on her pink, hardening nipples.

Victor fell between her legs and sucked on her clit while probing her with his fingers. One finger, then two. Curling and uncurling them in a “come hither” motion. And, after a few short moments, she did. Her hips bucked and the hungriest of moans escaped from her throat.

“Patient seems short of breath. Has elevated heart rate and blood pressure,” Victor said into Lacey’s pussy.

“What do you recommend, doctor?” Jefferson asked with mock-concern in his voice.

“A good fucking.” Victor struggled to pull his pants over his erection. Lacey moaned eagerly when she saw it.

“Hurry, doctor. I think we’re losing her,” Jefferson said.

Victor slammed into Lacey’s slick folds. It was warm and tight. Over and over again he slammed into her, making Lacey’s moans grow louder and more desperate. “More, doctor,” she cried. “More.” Victor tried to oblige, trying to drive his swollen cock further and further into Lacey.

For a moment, Jefferson stepped outside it all. Maybe because he had his own unfortunate erection and only Lacey’s mouth to keep it company, he saw something comical about the situation. Or maybe it was because he had more to drink and more Vicodin than his friend. He began giggling again.

Victor glared at him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Jefferson tried, but he was unable to stop himself. “You’re fucking the Dark One’s girlfriend. He’s going to be so pissed.” The idea of Rumplestiltskin angry was hilarious to him. He wiped tears from his eyes.

“Why’d you stop?” Lacey moaned from the bed.

Victor looked from his friend to his patient, glowering. He muttered something about having lost his concentration.

“Come up here,” she suggested, nodding to where Jefferson was standing. “And let him take over down there.”

The two of them switched places. Jefferson tried to look like he wasn’t pleased about the turn of events. He took off his pants and brought his cock to Lacey’s ready pussy. He teased her opening slowly then drove himself in.

Lacey groaned. “You weren’t kidding when you said you had something larger, were you?”

Victor glowered again and laid his cock on Lacey’s mouth. Eagerly she played with it, licking its length and rolling it between her lips. “The Dark One’s really missing out,” he moaned.

“Who is this Dark One you two keep talking about?” Lacey asked.

“Never mind,” Victor said and guided her head back to his shaft. He laced his fingers through her brown hair, gently guiding her up and down.

Lacey wanted to scream in ecstasy as she felt Jefferson pound against her. But with Victor’s cock in her mouth growing harder and larger, screaming became difficult. She took out her release instead by grabbing and pulling on the sensitive flesh under Victor cock. Suddenly, Lacey removed Victor from her mouth and cried out, “wait, wait!”

 “What is it?” Jefferson asked, a little disappointed.

Lacey slipped Jefferson out of her and turned around, showing Jefferson her backside. “This way, please.”

Jefferson was only too happy to obey. Lacey groaned. This way, from behind, she could feel every inch of his cock. This way, he hit her in such a perfect spot that she clawed the bed sheets into ribbons.

Victor stood in front of her, and Lacey seemed only too happy to have his dick return to her mouth. In perfect harmony, they rocked into her until all three of them reached a climax.

Exhausted, they piled on the floor of her padded cell, spilling wine and Vicodin over the floor.

“That was…” Lacey began but lost herself in a laugh.

“New,” Jefferson offered. He turned to his friend and gave a twisted smile.

Lacey laughed some more. “I was going to say unforgettable.”

Victor laughed humorlessly. “You’ll forget us by tomorrow.” He stood up and pulled his pants back on. “Let’s clean up here so the nurses don’t ask questions. Or Regina.”

“Such a killjoy,” Jefferson said, but he knew his friend was right. He stood up and gave Lacey one more kiss. “Will I see you again tomorrow night?”

Lacey returned the kiss and bit his lower lip for good measure. “I’ll look forward to it.”

Victor kissed her forehead. “No, you won’t.”

***

Outside the hospital, Victor wondered if he was sober enough to drive home.

“See you tomorrow,” Jefferson said. “Same time, same place?”

“Try not to be late.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just, I look at that damn clock and think, oh, I’ve got 15 minutes until he’s expecting me. I keep forgetting it’s been 8:15 forever.” To prove his point, Jefferson pointed to the clock tower. But for the first time in 28 years—other than that one time every morning and the other in the evening—he noticed it was right.

The two of them stared at each other wordlessly until the clock proved itself to them by ticking forward another minute.

“What does this mean?” Victor asked with a worried edge in his voice.

“The curse is breaking.” Jefferson was almost laughing.

“You mean all we had to do to break the curse was fuck the Dark One’s girlfriend?”

Jefferson shrugged. “Who knows? Magic works different here. I guess we’ll figure it out tomorrow,” Jefferson said smiling, realizing that for the first time in 28 years, there would be one. He put on his oversized top hat and walked down Main Street, tripping over himself as he went.

**Author's Note:**

> The story goes along with the idea that the Storybrooke personas of the characters always had a part of themselves that remembered their pre-curse lives or the idea that their cursed personas were a buried part of their Enchanted Forest personas. It follows my head-canon that Belle always had a part of Lacey buried in her (and that Lacey would have been her curse persona, but since Rumplestiltskin thought Belle was dead when he designed the curse, he didn't create a persona for her, which meant she was just memory-less and it allowed Regina to keep her imprisoned). And that Lacey would totes be up for a drunken threesome.


End file.
